Children of the Program (18 page)

chapter 27

the devil may run

The devil's hooves tap danced across the desert meadows.  News of Juno's death sent electricity through the Cadence.  They were adrenalized.  To think they had an international network, could orchestrate a murder, and bring a message of terror to the world stage, with a simple email, fueled their sense of empowerment.  They felt like vigilantes, far from the reach of the long arm of the law.  Dez began plotting his next mission and wasn't content to simply seek and destroy the current Program members, he sought a broader massacre; a massacre that included anyone who claimed to be indigo or spiritually gifted.  The cryptic message tucked in Juno's pocket had been publicly revealed, though, its riddle, meant to be decoded by those in The Program, had fallen deaf.  Dez continued to pound the holocaust drum and preach his message of genetic cleansing.

              “I appreciate that you've unearthed some of these bastard indigo, crystal or divine children and gathered their personal information.  We must find all of them and cleanse the world of their bodies.  With their dreamseeds and integration, our genetic structure will become degraded beyond recognition,” insisted Dez.

              “We have already begun mapping their IP addresses, and paired that information with what they’ve willingly and innocently shared on the web.  In some cases, we've reached out from bait accounts and set-up meetings.  We have ten targeted locations, but that number is growing.  All we need is your directive,” said Michelle.  She'd took their mission with an increased militant sincerity.

              “It is prudent to relish the calm.  When our time has come, the devil may run!”  Dez lit a cigarette and laughed.  He was charged by the rhetoric of his sermon.  Immortality fanned the flames of his arrogance.  Even jail was a waning concern, with his cult's reach.  “Come and get me,” he screamed toward the sky.  “I dare you!”

              His rise to stardom had left Crystal distressed.  She felt abandoned by the shadow he cast and wondered what she stood to gain by reinforcing his mania and propping him to unreachable heights.  It was one thing to stand for a cause, but another to allow him to dig his heals into the backs of the ones who helped raise him.  Saddled by doubt, she was no longer confident whether she was galloping toward the sun or eclipsing it.  Their recent actions stung like vinegar in her bleeding heart.  They seemed like a walking contradiction; a blasphemous sentiment to the planet's cry.  In moments of clarity, her constricted mind would release, unveiling Dez for the troubled sociopath he’d become.  As his paranoia increased, he ordered the members of the Cadence to accept a permanent residency on his lot.  He built a towering psychological wall, thwarting all communications with the outside world.  Resting back 100 feet from Dez's trailer, the camp spent weeks erecting a compound upon a shaky foundation of bloodstained money.  Civilization was the lost line on their distant horizon.

              The compound walls were glazed in a white stucco flat, and the structural integrity was raised by virgin hands.  Dez ran his command center from an underground bunker.  He felt secure, lurking below the surface, while plotting the world's damnation.  Drugs were no longer his distraction of choice, he preferred to mainline power.  His underground walls were reinforced with steel and fiberglass, and resembled a walk-in refrigerator.  A triple bolted lock secured the enclosure, and a narrow tunnel, leading to a spot just beyond the trailer, served as an immediate escape route.  It was surrounded by a tall steel white fence, making the doorway invisible to onlookers.  It held, roughly, 50 Cadence members.  With only 40 approved followers, not including Dez and Crystal, there was still room for a small expansion. 

              In the still of the night, Crystal remained anxious and wide-eyed.  Though she'd tried to hide her morning sickness, she'd knew she'd soon be forced to tell Dez about their coming gift.  Though he'd expressed a venomous disinterest in bringing a child into the world, he was careless in his attempts to prevent it. Judging by his recent mood swings and growing power trip, she was convinced he would force her to have an abortion.  Her heart knew a child could remedy their strained relationship, but her instincts begged her caution.

              On an average morning, she'd awake, slip out of their home and force herself to throw-up in the tall weeds behind his trailer.  It wasn't long before her routine caught his attention.  One morning, while she was kneeling down, with one hand holding back her greasy locks and a long finger forced down her heaving throat, Dez appeared.  He was suspicious.

                “What are you doing?” he asked.

              “I don't feel well.  It must be something I ate.  I can't live on the animals you hunt, alone.”

              “Crystal, we don't eat much and when we do, it's usually the same supper.” He calmly rattled. “I've noticed you waking, bright and early, and leaving the trailer.  I had assumed you were smoking, but yesterday, I heard you getting sick.  Is there something going on with you?”

              “It's nothing, Dez.” She froze.  She knew the truth would send him over the edge.

              “You'd better not be pregnant and trying to hide it from me,” he snarled.  Dez had considered the implications of having a child with Crystal and the effect it would have on their mission, but wasn’t entirely convinced his pretense for love was a qualifier.  His arrogance wasn't prepared for the possibility that he may have already snared himself. 

              “It's nothing.  I'm just nauseous.  I'll gladly take a test, if would put your mind to rest.”

              “Have Michelle escort you.  If you're positive, we'll talk,” said Dez.

              Crystal already knew the result, but saw fit to stall.  She didn't want to risk the life of their child over an overcharged conversation.  She wanted what was best for him.  With a pout, she idled.  “That sounds good!  Can we take some of the petty cash and grab McDonald's?  I'll test first.  If the results are positive, I won't pick-up the food — we’ll need the money.  I love you, darling, but I really need to eat some real food.”

              “Real food and McDonald's — ha!  Just bring back the test,” added Dez.

              Slipping into the compound and quietly wrestling Michelle from Max's loving clutches, she dropped a tiny whisper into her opening eardrum.  Michelle slunk from the cabin, adjusted her side-braid and loose-fitting white tank top and tossed a camouflage printed hat on her hard head.  Crossing through the gates, they walked into the dawn of a new day and discussed Dez's wish for Crystal to take a pregnancy test.  He may have had a war to wage with the world, but she had her own battles to fight.  Not long after hopping into the van and driving from the lot, the nervous mother spilled her guts.  She'd been dying to share the news.

              “Dez is going to lose it, if I'm pregnant!” said Crystal.

              “You're not, are you?” asked Michelle.

              “He does not want to bring child into this fallen world.  It would interfere with his calling.  I don't want to burden him or the mission.  We’ve come too far.  There's time, I need to know I have someone I can count on,” said Crystal.

              “Are you?” asked Michelle, even more insistent than before.

              “'I want to wait and surprise him, when there's no turning back. I'm just about through with the morning sickness.  He's got a good heart, he just seems a little broken and afraid to be loved.  I believe a child would make a huge difference in our lives.  But, everything has to be right.  Will you help me?” asked Crystal.

              “Of course.  Do you need me to pee on the stick?” asked Michelle.

              “It has to be our little secret.  You can't tell anyone, not even Max!  No one else knows.”

              “I promise.”

              They stopped into a local McDonald's and ordered a handful of breakfast meals.  The modernized lobby had a few big screen televisions, all flashing world news and stock market updates.  Looking up, in a daze, Crystal heard a journalist describing the note found in Juno's back pocket.  Her life was reeling in living color and heart began racing with excitement.  It wasn't the first time the note had been shown, but it was the first time they'd witnessed it.  Crystal was giddy with excitement, hoping this revelation would distract Dez.  She grabbed Michelle's arm and directed her eyes toward the set.

              “We have to watch this,” said Crystal.

              “And now, a follow-up on the bizarre story of a woman who was found asphyxiated by her own tent,” squawked a smug news anchor.  “The note reads, as follows:  'The end of your new beginning starts, tonight.'  If anyone has information, or is able to decode this cryptic message, please contact the authorities and make a statement.”

              “Dez is going to flip.” squealed Crystal.

              “You know, I can't visualize his body in that motion,” joked Michelle.

              “You know what I mean.”

              “I'd imagine he'd rip those dirty ass jeans!  I wonder how long they've been televising this?  Do you think the message has alerted the
special
people he's been hunting?  If so, our revolution has begun.  I think a baby is the least of your concerns, right now.  Let's flick the stick, Crystal.”

              “Agreed.  There's only one way to find out,” said Crystal.

              The girls eagerly hopped into the van.  The music, air and news had switched the course of an otherwise dismal morning.  They felt alive, it was as if her doubts and suspicions of the Cadence were simply quashed by her friend's willingness to lie for her.  Suddenly, a double homicide was trumped by an Egg McMuffin.  They sang the swan song of freedom and arrived in record time.  Dez ominously awaited in the driveway, alone.  The mere sight of him gave them both pause and cold chills.  Before exiting the cab, they took a moment to rehearse and calibrate their stories.

              “We went to Savoy's convenient store by the club.  We used their bathroom.  It's negative,” said Crystal.

              “Right, we went in, and I watched you like a hawk,” rehearsed Michelle.

              They both took a deep breath and approached the unwelcoming authority.

              “Dez, you won't believe what we just saw on the television,” said Crystal.

              “That they found the note, dear?” asked Dez.

              “Yes!  You heard?” asked Crystal.

              “Of course, I heard.  I knew, weeks ago.  This is my lifeblood, remember?  What do you think I do underground?  It hasn't generated the response I was hoping for, but it will.  I will tell you what you need to know when you need to know it.  Now, where's the damn test?”

              “Here.  God,” said Crystal.

              Putting on a brave face, Michelle looked Dez directly into the eyes, with a glare of disdain, and said, “She's clean!  Drop it.”  Her tone cut the noose from Crystal's neck.  Dez gruffly grabbed the bag of breakfast sandwiches from her nervous hand.  With a cold and unsettling stare, he turned without saying a word.

                “So that's it?  You're not happy?”

              “He's never happy,” dared Michelle.  “Where's Max's car?”

              “You should know.”

              “How so?”

              “I sent him to follow you.”

chapter 28

join the cult

After a series of dreams, suggesting Ash was in danger and might already have a target on her back, I was left with little choice in packing my suitcase and confronting the growing beast.  The Council had thrown my obsessive compulsive disorder into overdrive.  I didn't want anyone's coffin resting on my conscious.  No one wanted to believe Dez was the culprit, but too many signs pointed in one direction -
west
!

              We knew Simon's disappearance was odd, Juno was dead and Dez's aversion to the group was increasingly suspicious, but no one understood how the pieces fit.  The other obstacle lied in determining the legitimacy of our dreams.  I didn't always know if a lucid vision was divinely inspired or a mere projection, though witnessing Simon writhe in the Hallway of Sorrows was haunting.  If I chose to ignore his cries, I could very well be writing his death warrant — if he wasn’t already dead. 

Dreams of the Hallway of Sorrows always triggered a painful reality in me.  I often wondered, 'How could we collectively allow a place like this to exist,' when I was forced to relive the agony, lifetime after precious lifetime.  I was always diligent in offering my spiritual blessing to the fallen.  The night before I decided to travel west, I was visited by Juno.

              Hanging on the Hallway of Sorrows wall, she ached.  She'd done everything right and wanted nothing more than to give her life for the betterment of humanity, yet the world responded with her brutal assassination.  Death by asphyxiation wasn't a fate for the faint of heart, and certainly not intended for the angels who walked amongst us.  I witnessed her memories, as she recalled suffocating and feeling her cramped body fade.  I could feel her skin tighten, as it touched the freezing waters of the winding Tiber River.  Together, we went into shock.

              “My beautiful child will never know the magic it held.  This is a blasphemy to our humanity.  Why doesn't The Council interfere, when the truest of hearts is sacrificed for following their directives?  Why have faith at all?” asked Juno.

              The sight of her sent me rocketing from my bed and dialing.  “Elisa, I'm coming your way.”

              “You're coming to Los Angeles?” she asked.

              “I would love to say it's for pleasure, because I
am
excited to see you, but The Council has called me.  I'm not sure if you've heard about Simon and Juno, but things have taken some dramatic turns.”

              “It's horrible.  What does that have to do with you coming to the California?” she asked.

              “I was hoping you might be willing to escort me to New Mexico?  We need to find Dez.”

              “I might be pregnant. I'm not sure I can escape from Los Angeles, or my job.  As you know, it's expensive on our coast.  Truth be told, it also scares me a little.  I don't want to end up like our martyr Juno,” furthered Elisa.

              “Would you mind if I came and stayed with you, until I get my bearings and head straight?”

              “You're always welcome.  If you can cover your food, I can offer my couch,” she said.

              Experiencing deja vu, I began my long trek back to the Golden State.  Taking a moment to assess my progress, in a Texas roadhouse gas station, my doubt was siphoned by a news report referencing the letter found in Juno's pants pocket.  My suspicions were confirmed and the dots connected.  This tiny morsel of information spoke volumes and trumped any dream elucidated by The Council.  Accepting I may enter Dez's world, alone, I walked to the trunk of my car and made sure the revolver I stole from my father was present.  The dusty air and rocks beneath my hot and swollen feet put my mind in tune with the earth and blessed my plea for vigilante justice.  In my mind, I was the lone gunman out to save the world.  My only hope was that the devil would be surprised. 

There seemed like only two ways out of New Mexico.  He’d either die by my hand or I’d need a miracle.

              By the time I arrived at Elisa's doorstep, I was focused on the mission.  I'd devised a few methods of tracking Dez.  Living in a small town, I knew he'd eventually need to refill his hog.  I considered setting up camp, at nearby gas stations, waiting and following him.  Studying his habits, I figured, I could integrate with the community, slowly.  My long term plan was to embed myself with the locals, until I was accepted, fitting the culture and speak and adorning the swagger.  Their trust would make my assimilation natural.  In my fantasy, they’d serve him up on a platter.  Obviously, there were precautions to take, but it was all I had.  I envisioned finding Dez resting in a pit of cobras, nestled in Medusa's chest and plotting.  Slithering to the center of his world would require drinking from his poisonous springs.

              Los Angeles had a way of smuggling weeks from my life.  Elisa didn't mind the company and I was content to regress into familiar habits.  Her fear of Magnus never waned.  My presence offered her a wanted security; her boyfriend's job interfered with his ability to stand guard.  The looming chance of Magnus playing his curious hand, seemed cued, after his last conversation with Grayson — everyone in The Program was on high alert.  It was clear that Elisa and her boyfriend Marcus genuinely loved each other, and she'd someday join The Beyond.  No one wanted to see her end up like Juno.  As my welcome began to run dry, we parted ways.  I'll never forget how tense and humid the California air felt that day.  In separate directions, she drove toward Santa Monica to pick-up a pregnancy test, and I carted myself into the desert.  When we hugged, it felt like we might never see each other again.  Goodbyes were always hard with Programmers.

+++

When Elisa arrived at the convenient store, she could feel an unwelcome set of eyes resting upon her.  On guard, she surveyed the scene.  Assuming her nerves were getting the best of her, she crossed the threshold.  As the automatic doors closed, an uncanny sense of familiarity befell her.  Slipping by her radar, the devil was parked and waiting.  As she greeted the local store clerk, another Godstop of synchronicity pecked upon her awareness.  She recalled the dream she'd had of Anan, the red bird.  Nervously shuffling through the tests and cautiously glancing through the sliding doorway for clues, her waxing and waning memories distracted her focus from reality.  'Was the dream about Magnus?' she questioned.  In record time, she made her purchase and stalled in the aisles, until coherency trumped her fear.  Slipping out of a fire exit seemed reasonable, considering her recollections.

              After a noticeable amount of time had passed, she tempted fate.  Entering the parking lot, she locked eyes with Beelzebub and swallowed a big gulp of adrenaline.  This was the moment Anan had foreshadowed.  She choked, screamed and turned back toward the store doors.  Her ears sprung like an antenna, as Magnus locked and loaded his pistola, and slowly inched toward her.  Per protocol, the store clerk secured the premises and called the police.  Elisa cried, knowing she was trapped.  Though she screamed and pounded upon the doors, it was of no consequence.  The clerks huddled behind the furthest aisle walls, praying they'd soon see their friends and families.  They'd already stomached the reality they'd someday have to explain why they locked a pregnant girl out of their store, while she faced a killer.

              “What do you have there?” asked Magnus.

              “You already know,” said Elisa.  Nervous, she took a step back and pleaded.

              “Stop!  If you have this baby, it's over.  I'll never see you again.  You have to agree to terminating it, or I'll be forced to kill you.  We can still be together, Elisa.  You've got to stop this from happening,” said Magnus.

              Her quivering mouth moved along with his crazed words, 'We can still be together.'  Frozen with fear, she dropped the weightless bag.  “You don't have to do this!” Elisa fired back.  “Don't be a selfish prick!  Think of all of the people you'll be hurting.  If I don't love you now, why in the hell would I love you, after you've pulled the trigger.”

              “I love you.  I can't risk losing you.  You know we connected in the desert.  We just need time,” said Magnus.

              “Time?  This isn't how love works.  You can't force someone to be with you.  I don't love you, now, and I never will.  You're psychotic!  Even if I had a few flash feelings, that's not why we're here.  Do you think I want to spend an earthly eternity with a lunatic?” asked Elisa.

              He was too distracted to respond to her unsettling and brave reasoning.  Disrupting their heated discourse, an army of blue and red lights descended upon the parking lot.  Magnus's fight-or-flight reaction was triggered, making him a ticking time bomb.  “Put down your weapon!” screamed an LAPD officer. 

              “I'm sorry.  We're out of time.  Luckily, we have all the time in the world to figure this out,” said Magnus.

              “Figure out what?” asked Elisa.

                “Us.  For once, I kind of know what God feels like – it’s this moment,” said Magnus.

              “What God?  You're a megalomaniac,” screamed Elisa.

              “What can I say, I have a bit of a complex.  Killing the one you love is love, right?”

              “Jesus Christ!” she screamed.

              She jerked and tried to run, but it was no use.  Magnus immediately opened fire and unloaded a flurry of bullets into her spine and head.  The bullets that missed her grazed the police, who fired back.  Just as a Nickelodeon winds down, he fell to his knees in slow motion.  Trembling on the ground, her furious eyes locked with his.  Together, they drifted toward The Hallway of Sorrows.  The city wept, as warm blood ran from their bodies and glazed over the smoldering concrete.  Three birds were killed with a single heart of stone.

+++

              I arrived in New Mexico, followed my plan and tracked Dez.  We made small talk and danced around my immediate reason for being spotted in a New Mexican strip club.  He remained disengaged by my ramblings, but was often distracted by the people in the club.  They seemed to know and enjoy showering him with a comical level of adoration and respect.  I decided the best way to win his trust was to continue filling our void of relevant commentary with the sound of my own voice.  The more I shared, the more I hoped he'd consider opening a dialog.  I told him about my time with Ash and framed our departure as a riddle of regret.  If he was plotting to kill her and he had murdered Simon and Juno, I thought steering our conversation into a familiar harbor was a good place to dock.  Overhearing my one way conversation, a small group swarmed and introduced themselves.

              “Ash?  Isn't she that famous artist in Europe?” asked Michelle.  She was curious.

              Immediately becoming uncomfortable, I could practically taste the beads of sweat emerging from Dez's brow line.  I knew there had to be a reason this random New Mexican club kid would know about Ash.  Dez knew it wasn't the time nor place for revelations.  My curiosity piqued.  This was the validation I needed to justify my presence. 

              “Yes!”  I responded.  “She left me broke and brokenhearted in Los Angeles.”

              “Women?” she laughed.  “How do you know Dez?”

              Encouraging me to pause, Dez put his arm around my shoulder and firmly directed me away from his peer group.  He led me to a remote part of the club, far from ear shot.  “Small talk, aside, why are you here and how did you find me?”

              “Ash and I had a hell of a rock show going in Los Angeles.  She deserted me and it all disbanded.  I was abruptly forced to leave.  Getting back on my feet, I wanted to visit a few friends, so I returned.  Elisa was gracious enough to share her couch for a few weeks.  I talk to Grayson, pretty regularly.  Do you remember the guy?”

              “I do,” said Dez.

              “He said Simon was with you.  So, I figured I'd try and kill two birds with one stone.”

              “Yes, Simon was here.  He didn't stay long.  I might have scared him a bit.  I don't have the nicest of accommodations and my demeanor can sometimes make people a little uncomfortable.  He was staying in a nearby hotel.  I think he just needed someone to bond with.  Israel ostracized him,” furthered Dez.

              “He's gone?” I asked.

                “He is.  He wanted to try and find himself in the desert.”

              “Like Moses?” I asked.

              “Yeah, I guess.  He wouldn't be the first to get lost out here.”

              “How did that girl know about Ash?”  I prodded, beginning to sense trust in Dez's tone.

              “These people are my closest friends.  I share everything with them.  The Program doesn't make sense, Neco.  I can't participate or even allow myself to think about it.  It's too much, and I have too much of my own baggage to sort through,” said Dez.

              “Tell me about it!”

              “Our calling, it feels like Zombieland.  So, I built walls, went off the grid, made friends and found my own way of dealing with it.  The booze, and girls are a mere distraction.  I'd invite you over, but I don't know that you'd feel comfortable with my arrangements,” offered Dez.